I drove over to Charlie’s Truck Stop this past week to pick up a few things and to see how Jake was getting on. Jake had picked up a minor cold and was having some trouble talking. His wife, Maureen, had helped out in the store for a couple days. Jake is hardly ever sick. He mostly stays at that store twelve to fourteen hours six days per week. He still showed up to work, but Maureen had to do the talking for him on occasion. It was not that Jake felt all that bad. When he could talk, he would explain he was doing pretty well except for a tightness in his chest. Just sometimes, when he opened his mouth, all that came out was squeaky air. When I pulled up in front of the new gas pumps, Jake came bouncing out as usual to ask if I needed gas. He sounded normal enough except his voice broke on a couple words. I asked how he was feeling and he said he was much improved. Jake has too much work to do and does not have the time to be sick.
Then Jake asked me how was the comic book show. I do a comic story and sell ink on paper publications as well as comics on CD. I go to several trade shows over the summer to sell and promote my stuff. Jake knew I had gone to a show this past weekend. Comics shows are generally three day affairs that run Friday through Sunday. The folks that set them up reserve rooms in one of the hotels in a town and invite professional comics people, television and movie actors, and sci-fi writers to be guests. The size of the show determines the prominence of the guests. For a big show, you may get guests who are household names across the country. For a small show, guests arrive that nobody much ever hears of except a few die hard fans. The show I attended this past weekend was in the mid range.
One of the central features of a comics con, as they are called, is the huckster room. That is a large room sectioned off with tables where dealers sell their wares, anything from old comics to plastic figures and home made jewelry, all related to comics or sci-fi cultural icons. I normally buy space in the huckster room and take some of my stuff to set up and display. In addition to selling my stuff, I get to talk to some of my customers personally. The atmosphere is something of a glorified flea market. It’s a pretty good deal.
Because the huckster room is normally open twelve hours straight with no break, I take someone with me to help out and to sit at my table while I take a moment to walk around and look at the items displayed at other tables. This year, the lady that normally accompanies me is not available. My cousin in Jackson TN has friends with a daughter who said she could be interested. The woman has just come out of a bad marriage and is living back at home with her folks. I drove to Jackson to meet her in early March and found a very attractive lady with a nice personality, so we agreed she would go to the show with me. I left home before daylight to get to the lady’s residence by five-thirty. We packed her overnight things and change of clothes into my car around my stuff to display and sell. The lady, her name was Jane, said she had been out to a party the previous night and had come in late. She settled into a corner of the seat and slept most of the trip.
We arrived at the hotel of the comics show in Memphis about nine-thirty and went in to scout out the place and locate the huckster room. I was only planning to attend two days, Friday and Saturday, and return home Saturday night. Sunday at most three day shows is a downer in any case. I had a project promised for Monday morning I needed to get back to finish up. I arranged to get our table set up while Jane went to the hotel desk to confirm the two rooms I had reserved for Friday night. Friday went well. We sold enough to pay expenses and Jane was good with people. I knew she was a hit when passersby kept asking if they could get a picture of her. One guy with several cameras hung about his neck asked her out into the natural daylight and took several rolls of film. Jane went to her room early Friday night and I stayed up talking with fans and friends I know from previous shows.
Saturday was a good day, though it was cloudy outside. Since expenses were paid, all the money from Saturday was pure gravy. Saturday afternoon a couple guys came by that Jane knew and, after the Huckster Room closed, she said she wanted to look them up. That was fine and I told her to be back by eleven as that was when I planned to leave for home. Come eleven-thirty, Jane was no place to be seen. I began asking about and was told she was in the ladies’ rest room, sick from drinking too much. Annoyed, I went to the hotel desk to ask to have someone dig her out of the rest room so I could take her home. I went to get my car and discovered the rain had started. I pulled up to the hotel entrance where the hotel employee who had dragged Jane from the rest room poured her into the passenger seat. Jane promptly passed out. I was driving the interstate in the inside lane when Jane decided she needed to be sick. An eighteen wheeler was right beside me on the outside with those big tires churning the water and there was no way I could pull off to the side of the road. Jane rolled down the window and tossed her cookies in the rain. I was certainly thankful she was not sick inside the car.
She rolled the window back up and passed out again. I drove to Jackson and parked in her drive. We had come out from the rain and the sky was clear. I unloaded her things and set them on the porch, then I woke Jane and helped her to the front door. She tried her key without much success, so I unlocked the door for her. She turned to me and aimed a kiss at my cheek. She missed and hit my shoulder. She said, “Thank you. I had a wunnerful time.” I held the door for her and set her things inside. I closed the door behind her and heard a clunk as she hit the floor. I walked to my car and started for home. I do not think I shall be asking Jane to help out at another show. A wunnerful time indeed!
END
